


Do you understand now?

by lyrawinter



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Kiss, Petyr is her mentor, Sansa is one of the participants, talent show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 16:18:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: Sansa has won The Westerosi Musician 2019. After the live final, there’s a party in the hotel next to the studio, and Sansa can speak with Petyr alone.
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	Do you understand now?

**Author's Note:**

> I've written this one-shot to celebrate it's being a year since I started posted on AO3. I wanted to say that I love this fandom and that I'm so happy to be part of it. You all have been always very kind to me. Thank you so much :-)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading! :-)

The hotel was crowded. The producers had rented the banquet hall to celebrate the final of The Westerosi Musician 2019. The whole crew of The Westerosi Musician was there: the production team, the participants, the host, the directors, the writers, the mentors… 

Her mentor. Sansa’s eyes traveled around the room, looking for the man who had been by her side since this adventure began, a year ago. Mr. Baelish, Petyr (for he’d asked her to call him Petyr) should be there. He should be celebrating since his pupil had been crowned winner of The Westerosi Musician 2019 just half an hour ago. The final had broken the audience record.

Why wasn’t he there? Sansa had wanted to see him in private after the final, to exchange some words with him before heading to the hotel, but she hadn’t been able to do so; the producers had leaded her to a room full of journalists, who had asked her how she felt after winning The Westerosi Musician. Then she had had to pose for the photographers for over twenty minutes. Even though she’d had her pictures taken every week since she was a participant of The Westerosi Musician, she still wasn’t used to it. She wasn’t used to being around the cameras either. She remembered the first time she’d talked about this with Petyr. It had been a year ago, the day they met.

The day she sang in her audition and chose Petyr as her mentor. 

_A year ago. Sansa’s audition._

_Sansa couldn’t see them yet, but the four mentors were sitting in purple armchairs just a few inches away from her._

_Tywin Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Harrold Hardying and Petyr Baelish. Four renowned artists in Westeros. A baritone (Tywin Lannister); A blues rock singer (Cersei Lannister); A pop star and the protagonist of many popular children’s TV shows (Harrold Hardying); and last but not least, an indie folk singer, song writer and the owner of several theaters in Westeros (Petyr Baelish)._

_Sansa just needed one mentor’s approval to enter the competition; she just needed one of them to push the green button to become a contestant. But if several mentors pushed it, she could pick her favorite._

_Other participants didn’t have any preferences. They didn’t care who pushed the green button so long as they could enter the competition. Of course, Sansa would be so happy if she got to be a contestant. She still couldn’t believe she had been selected from among thousands of candidates and now she was about to perform in front of the mentors during prime time. Sansa had watched this talent show since she was a child and she’d dreamed of being part of it. _

_Sometimes dreams come true, she thought standing in front of the black door, the door that leaded to the stage where the audience and the mentors waited for the next candidate. The candidates weren’t introduced before performing. All of them were anonymous, and they remained anonymous if no mentors chose them. In this case, they didn’t get to exchange any words with the mentors. They just left the stage quietly as the audience clapped. _

_“It’s okay if no one chooses me,” Sansa reminded herself. “It’s just a contest.”_

_But she wanted to be chosen._

_Beside her, one of the producers smiled at her._

_“Ready?”_

_She nodded. _Relax_, she told herself._

_“Then go for it!”_

_“Thank you.” Sansa managed a smile. Relax, she told herself. It’s just a context. She inhaled deeply and turned the handle._

_On the other side, the silence was so thick. Sansa swallowed and began walking towards the center of the stage. The sound of her heels broke the silence. Click. Click. Click. Sansa swallowed again, knowing everybody was looking at her. She stared at the microphone, and her feet moved faster. Relax. Relax. When she finally stopped, her heart was pounding so hard. She grabbed the microphone with both hands and waited for the orchestra to start playing the music._

_The silence fell over the room again._

_Sansa hadn’t made eye contact with the mentors yet. She knew her body language was very important, but she was so nervous. The words her friend had told her on the phone last night echoed in her mind:_

_Bewitch them, seduce them, entice them to push the button._

_Sansa pressed her lips together to suppress a nervous laugh. In these moments, she wasn’t capable of bewitching anyone._

_A soft melody broke the silence. Two violins and a guitar. Sansa closed her eyes. _

_One, two, three. _

_She began to sing._

_It was a song about youth, love and taking risks. A song about getting your hopes up despite the fear of being hurt. About finding the light in the shadows and keeping it alive. About not giving up._

_It was hard to sing, not only because it was emotionally draining, but also because this was a song with trills. If her voice trembled during those rapid alternations between notes, everybody would notice. Sansa knew she’d chosen a challenging song, but she wanted to show what she was capable of. Besides, this song made her feel alive and confident and powerful. She felt as if she were inside a glass dome, where no one could hurt her._

_This time wasn’t different fortunately. As she sang the first notes, her heart started beating slower, and she forgot about the audience and the cameras. She forgot that millions of people were watching the show._

_Bewitch them._

_Seduce them._

_The music was soothing her, the music was creating this perfect dome around her._

_She felt safe._

_She lowered her left arm and kept holding the microphone just with her right hand. She was starting to enjoy her performance._

_As she hit a high note, she ran her left hand through her hair and stared for the first time at the man she wanted to be her mentor._

_Petyr Baelish._

_No one in her family knew that she’d started listening to his songs when she was a teenager. In her family, the name of Petyr Baelish was taboo. Sansa only knew that he’d had a fight with her uncle when they both were at the university, and that Petyr had quit his studies and left Riverrun. Some years later, he’d released his first album and became famous, but he'd always been a private person. His life before the fame was a mystery, and the only people who could tell Sansa about him (Catelyn and Ned, because her uncle had passed away many years ago) always frowned when they heard his name on TV or read it on a magazine._

_Did she wanted Petyr to be his mentor because of the past he shared with his family? Perhaps, but this wasn’t the main reason. _

_The main reason was that she admired him. His songs, his voice, had accompanied her throughout her teen years. Listening to him had brought her some comfort when she was feeling down. His songs were like a magic door in a forest. They had led her to a beautiful world, an ethereal world. A world she could only step into in her mind. _

_And now it was him who was listening to her. And judging by his expression, he was dazed. Sansa smiled. She felt powerful, like a mermaid enticing a young boy to come closer. She saw him lean back in his armchair and open his mouth lightly, his eyes fixed on hers._

_He liked it._

_Did he like her?_

_Her heart skipped a beat when his hand moved to the green button. _

_He pushed it._

_Sansa’s voice trembled when she hit her next note. It sounded as if she were about to cry. Shit. She couldn’t ruin it now. She needed to keep her emotions under control and finish her performance._

_She met his eyes again, and it was as if he’d seen the truth in her gaze, as if he’d understood that she’d been hoping he would push the button, that she wanted him to be her mentor. His eyes lit up, and he gave her a genuine smile. _

_She smiled back and squeezed the microphone. He nodded encouragingly. Go on, he seemed to say._

_Sansa brought the microphone closer to her mouth and kept singing. Some seconds later, the other mentors pushed the button almost at the same time, but she didn’t notice._

_She had entered the competition._

_And she was going to choose Petyr._

_When the song ended, he rose to his feet and applauded her. Soon, the other mentors and the audience began clapping too. The host came closer to Sansa and waited until the silence fell over the room again._

_“You should be really happy!” He exclaimed. “The four mentors had pushed the button and you’ve captivated the audience too!”_

_“I am.” _

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Sansa Stark.”_

_“Such a beautiful name.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“Well, I guess you want to hear the mentors before making your decision. But beware, every one of them will try to persuade you to choose them.” He laughed._

_Sansa laughed too. She wasn’t going to tell him she’d already made her decision._

_Harrold Hardying spoke first. Then Cersei and afterwards Tywin. They all praised her voice, and told her that if she chose them, they would help her to feel more confident on the stage. Tywin also asked her if she would like to sing in musical theater. _

_When it was Petyr’s turn, he smiled as if they were sharing a secret and asked her what her favorite genres were. _

_“I love folk music,” she said grinning._

_“Do you?” His eyes flickered._

_“Yes. It makes me feel so many emotions.”_

_“You know how to evoke an emotional response from an audience, Sansa. There are many beautiful voices, but it’s hard to find one that pierces your soul and makes you forget where you are. Your voice does this.”_

_Sansa opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say. She could have never imagined her voice would affect him like this._

_Petyr continued:_

_“I would like you to be my pupil, Sansa. With your voice and my lessons, the world will be yours.”_

_Present_

She pulled out her phone and typed:

_Everybody is here. Where are you?_

His reply showed up almost instantly:

_“On the terrace.”_

*

The cold air fluttered her hair when she stepped into the terrace. Petyr was looking over the railing, but he turned away when he heard her. She noticed his eyes looked sad.

“Petyr. What’s wrong? What are you doing here?”

He gave her a gentle smile and whispered:

“I’m so proud of you. Look how far you’ve come, sweetling.”

She smiled. She always felt warm inside when he called her like this. Sweetling. She came closer to him and touched his arm.

“Why are you here, Petyr?” She swallowed and lowered her voice: “And why do you look so sad?”

He shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar.”

His lips curled up into a little smile.

“This is over. I’m just a bit melancholic.”

“What’s over? The competition? Yes, and we’ve won, Petyr.” She looked at him, confused.

“No, you’ve won Sansa, and this is what I dreamed of when you chose me. Your victory makes me so happy.”

“Then why are you so sad?”

He sighed.

“Because our paths part here," he confessed. "Your singing career starts now. You'll shine, Sansa. You're shining already. But I’ll witness your success from the distance.”

Her heart sank. She didn’t think this would be the last time they would see each other.

“I thought… I thought we…” She paused and swallowed. Turning her eyes away from him, she finally muttered: “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.”

“The competition is over,” he repeated.

“This doesn’t matter! We can continue working together. You can still teach me things.”

A pained expression flickered in his eyes.

“Is that what I’m to you? A mentor?”

“I…” She didn’t know what to say. What was he expecting her to say? “I don’t know what you want Petyr! I thought the idea of loosing me made you sad but apparently you don’t want to be my mentor anymore. Then what do you want?”

“Do you really want to know?” His voice dropped an octave.

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

He cupped her face. Sansa opened her mouth, but she couldn’t ask any question because soon his lips were on hers.

_Oh._

She closed her eyes. At first, she didn’t dare to move for fear this moment would end, but when Petyr started pulling away, surely believing that she didn’t want this, Sansa grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer. His chest rumbled when he groaned. He was relieved, she understood. For an instant, he'd though he'd made a mistake. He moved his hands to the nape of her neck, and Sansa noticed he was trembling. His body pressed closer to hers, and his tongue caressed hers in a way that made her head spin. Sansa wanted to laugh and cry and smile and hug him and jump. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that this was real. 

_Don’t think. Just feel._

When he pulled away, they stared at each other, trying to catch their breath. His gaze was so intense that she shivered. Her legs felt weak, and her head was still spinning.

“Do you understand now?” he asked panting.


End file.
